


the disaster artist

by maanjha



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Flash Fic Fest Dan and Phil Games, Fluff, M/M, Phandom Fic Fest Dan and Phil Games, based off of the game 90 Second Potraits, dan is naked and unsexy in this fic hell yeah!!!, enjoy, he is Nude but it's not smutty, really i just liked the video title
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 16:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17563892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maanjha/pseuds/maanjha
Summary: Phil picks up a new hobby. Dan grins and bares it.





	the disaster artist

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is written for the Phandom Flash Fic Fest, DanAndPhilGames edition. it is based very loosely off of [this video.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6k-t7TQWrk)  
> beta-d by lenis whom i would rob a bank for.

“Dan! Please stop wriggling about. You’re ruining my artistic flow.”  
Phil frowns at Dan from over the easel, forehead wrinkled, eyebrows furrowed. He has a smear of pink paint on his cheek, and his glasses are almost at the tip of his nose. For some unfathomable reason, he’s chosen to equip himself with the bright red beret from the props box, which clashes horribly with the eye-wateringly yellow emoji pyjamas. 

“It’s cold,” Dan grumbles. Phil has carefully arranged him on the sofa: naked, in the classic paint-me-like-one-of-your-french-girls pose, spread out luxuriously over the fluffy pimp blanket. It’s been over twenty minutes of Phil merrily dabbing away at the canvas, occasionally peeking out from behind it to stare at Dan thoughtfully for a few seconds. 

Dan knows that he’s the resident drama queen in their own little best friends club, but this new hobby sure is putting Phil in the running for that title. He’s revelling in this new personality of a tortured-genius-artist: it involves a lot of pacing about, paintbrush flying across the white, stopping in his tracks to remark ‘aha!’ while tapping the brush on his bottom lip with a look of intense concentration on his face. Dan’s really enjoying the theatrics, but not enough to have his entire ass out in mid-January.

His complaint about the cold, much to his gratification, does bring a sheepish look on Phil’s face. “Sorry! I’m nearly done. Then you can get dressed again.” 

“You couldn’t start with like, a bowl of fruit? Or something?” Dan says, shifting the weight of his body from his elbow to his hip to alleviate some of the discomfort. It really is an uncomfortable position to be in for a long time. He makes a mental note to look up tips for nude modelling later. 

Phil lets out a screech and rubs his hand across his forehead, leaving streaks of brown. “I said no moving! The shadows have changed. The aesthetics are wrong. I’ll have to repaint your whole penis now.” He dramatically pushes his hair up again, and resumes to furiously rub his brush on the canvas as Dan splutters in indignation. “I really fucking hope that my penis isn’t a very important detail in this.”

Phil looks up from the canvas yet again, wrist angled, paintbrush hovering in midair stylishly. The fucker really is committed to playing the part, isn’t he? “Of course it is! The penis is the focal point. Rule of thirds!” 

Dan bites back a retort on how ‘...that’s really not what the rule of thirds means, Phil.’ For all his grumpiness and near-constant whining, Dan really loves seeing Phil like this. He hasn’t seen Phil have this much genuine joy over something in a long time. Sure, they both loved touring. It made them happy, but it was also really stressful. This, on the other hand, is a simple hobby. A performance for nobody but himself. Creating just for the pleasure of it: something Phil hadn’t really done since his filmmaking days in university, a fact that he confessed to Dan in bed after a late night rambling on the future of the gaming channel. 

Phil flips the canvas over, holding it carefully so as to not get his fingers on the still-wet paint. It’s a crude rendering of his body, long and pale and tipped in pink and brown on an inky grey background with colourful splotches. Something about the bold strokes and the colours makes Dan feel warm. It’s no Picasso, no photorealistic work of art. It’s just very Phil. A labour of love intended for only their eyes. 

Phil’s tongue sticks out from between his teeth as he grins excitedly.“What d’you think?” He’s glowing with the satisfaction of having made something with his own hands. Dan melts. 

“I fucking love it.”

**Author's Note:**

> [reblog this fic on my tumblr!](http://maanjha.tumblr.com/post/182346722426/the-disaster-artist)


End file.
